Looking at and Looking through a story
When we read a story, we’re looking through it and at the characters, world, and events. We read words and sentences that magically conjure up a virtual reality within our minds. When the storytelling is done well, we fall into a narrative dream, transported from our reading chair to the Regency era, Mars, Middle Earth, or anytime and anywhere.
When we study a story, we look at it. We read the text that creates the illusion of characters, world, and events. We are transported, not to the story world, but to the mind of the writer who created the story. The story is an artifact that allows us to travel along as an apprentice to a master craftsperson. The text itself is our mentor and reveals more than the human writer could about how they accomplished their task.
How do we do this? We read a lot including stories we’re not naturally drawn to. We stay open and curious as we sift through the details. We consider the options available to the writer and the possible reasons for their choices while withholding judgment. We gain other perspectives on the same story by hearing what others have to say about it. Above all, we question our assumptions about what we see and what it means to us.
As we study the minds of other writers, we are simultaneously studying our own minds. We notice our reaction and ask why. We consider how we might handle the same situation differently. In this way, we take our first steps toward being in conversation with the writers we admire. And when we share our own story that explores a similar territory, we join the universal, eternal conversation about human life.
This makes me think of a favorite line from Professor Henry Higgins’s in My Fair Lady: “I know your head aches. I know you're tired. I know your nerves are as raw as meat in a butcher's window. But think what you're trying to accomplish—just think what you're dealing with. The majesty and grandeur of the English language; it's the greatest possession we have. The noblest thoughts that ever flowed through the hearts of men are contained in its extraordinary, imaginative and musical mixtures of sounds. And that's what you've set yourself out to conquer, Eliza. And conquer it you will.”
If we change the language to story, it describes the challenge we’ve accepted. If we think too much about the seriousness of our undertaking, we could psych ourselves out. So hold it lightly, but don’t ever forget that as a writer you are participating in the pursuit and sharing of wisdom.
If you’d like to join a cohort of writers actively engaged in this conversation, studying storytelling together, raise your hand by filling in the form below.
This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.